


not much of a drinker?

by seraphicbane



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 06:32:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14443416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraphicbane/pseuds/seraphicbane
Summary: alec doesn't know much about art but he knows magnus is a masterpiece (◔◡◔✿) aka nephilim aren't immune to the effects of alcohol, we been knew





	not much of a drinker?

**Author's Note:**

> i really yet again have no explanation for this. my brain comes up with very random fluffy scenarios as a natural coping mechanism and i just write it all down, this is how it works. enjoy!

”Where did Simon go? Isn’t he the man of the hour?” 

Isabelle raised her eyebrows at Magnus. “This is an engagement party. In case it slipped your mind, I am a part of said engagement and thus the woman of the hour,” She said, trying her very best to sound at least a little offended, but her blinding smile gave her away entirely.

“You know I know that, my dear,” He smiled back at her, pulling her in for a hug. He was absolutely elated to see her quite literally glowing with joy. Knowing everything she’d had to go through to get where she was today only made his heart warmer. 

“Oh,” Izzy exclaimed, looking over Magnus’s shoulder to see Simon approach them with a champagne glass in hand. “Speak of the devil and he appears.”

“Who? Me?” Simon asked, setting the half-empty champagne glass on the nearest table and reaching out to grab Izzy’s hand. “What did I do?” Suddenly a look of horror crossed his face. “Did I accidentally steal something again because Magnus, I swear the last time I- it was-”

Izzy grinned, leaning in to kiss her fiancé’s cheek to stop him from rambling. “You’re good, Simon.”

That was the moment Simon’s grandmother came to tap him on the shoulder to request to have a moment with the pair. Magnus happily waved the three of them away and turned to move towards the bar, only barely missing running into Clary.

“Oh, be careful, biscuit!” He exclaimed and grabbed her shoulders to steady her giggling form.

“Careful is my middle name,” she declared as she threw her arms around Magnus’ shoulders, leaning her head on him.

The warlock couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. “Are you by any chance a little bit intoxicated?“

Clary hushed him with her finger and pointed it across the room instead. “You see Alec over there?”

Magnus took a glance at the Shadowhunter chatting with Aline across the room, nodding.

Clary glanced around them as if what she was about to say was the greatest treasured secret known to mankind. He looked down at her, biting his lip to contain his amusement at her endearingly serious facial expression.

“I heard he likes you,” she stage-whispered, looking incredibly pleased with herself for having such exclusive information to share.

Magnus let her have her moment before allowing himself to speak.

“I would hope so,” he finally said, and Clary looked up at him, somewhat confused. “We are married after all.”

The way her eyes widened at this newly obtained information was nothing short of comical.

“You were one of my bridesmaids, darling,” Magnus chuckled.

The girl seemed absolutely flabbergasted. “What? Are you sure?” 

“You know,” Magnus took a deep breath and offered her a soft smile. “We’ll circle back to that later, okay? How about we get you some water?” He guided her to the bar and sat her down, asking Maia - who had graciously agreed to do the bartending for the party, to keep an eye on the Shadowhunter.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Maia reaching out to grab Clary’s hand, completely stilling the girl who he knew had been crushing on the werewolf for months. He couldn’t help but smile. 

It was then that Magnus’ eyes were drawn back to Alec who was now seated alone at a table across the room, Aline no longer in sight, deeply concentrated on stirring his drink with a cocktail pick. 

He walked over to him and laid a hand on his shoulder, muttering a gentle ‘hey’ in greeting. 

Alec’s eyes lit up immediately, his drink no longer so fascinating. “Magnus, hi!”

The warlock sat down and raised an elegant eyebrow at his husband. “Aren’t you feeling chipper,” He observed in amusement, knowing full well that Alec hadn’t been paying attention to the number of drinks he’d been consuming, willingly ignoring the fact that he was very much a lightweight. What with Nephilim genes and all.

Still, Alec instantly caught on his tone of voice, pouting slightly. “I know what you’re going to say, but I don’t want you to ‘cause- it’s, it’s not true.”

Magnus laughed, clasping a hand over Alec’s. “I was only about to comment on how beautiful your sister looks tonight. I can’t wait to see her in an actual wedding dress. She has exquisite taste in fabrics so I’m certain her gown will be breathtaking.”

The poke regarding a certain amusing past event Magnus would never forget went right over Alec’s head because he was more focused on staring at Magnus like he’d hung the moon and all the stars in the sky than on what he was saying. 

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” The casual sentiment caught Magnus completely off guard. Although Alec was by no means sober, his voice was gentle and his eyes shone with that genuine admiration they overwhelmingly so often did when Magnus was around.

Magnus opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn’t quite find the right words. He never could when it came to Alec and the absolutely shameless declarations of affection he effortlessly slipped into the most mundane everyday conversations.

“I swear, it’s like you’re from a… Picasso painting, or something.”

“Darling, have you ever actually seen a Picasso painting?”

“No..” Alec admitted hesitantly. “But I think you missed my point.”

“Picasso was actually an abstract-“

Alec squinted at Magnus like he was suddenly speaking a foreign language.

“Okay. Maybe that’s a conversation for another time,” The warlock relented, reaching out to brush Alec’s hair back where it had flopped down over his eyes. “You feeling okay?”

The shadowhunter returned to stirring the drink in front of him. “I just… can’t believe that Iz is getting married. My little sister. When did she grow up so much?” He looked up, a stunned look coloring his features. “Really, it feels like just yesterday we trained together for the very first time, both grumbling about how we wanted to use real weapons and get assigned on missions stat. I think we were seven years old.”

Magnus smiled fondly at the mental image of the two young Lightwoods, fierce warriors in making, giving their parents a headache with their untimely enthusiasm to go out hunting demons. 

“Neither of you two has changed much, though, if your stories are anything to go by,” he said softly. “And now you get the chance to publicly tease her with said stories at her wedding, like she did at ours.”

Alec chuckled, ducking his head. “That she did. We really shouldn’t have had an open bar.”

“That was your idea,” Magnus reminded him, an amused smile on his face. “And to think that on our very first date years ago you told me you weren’t much of a drinker.”

“That is still true. I just wasn’t aware of how-“

“Nonexistent your tolerance is?” Magnus supplied helpfully. 

“Hey,” the Shadowhunter exclaimed. “That’s not fair. It’s not like I chose to be this way,” he said, no real heat to his voice.

“Alright, well,” Magnus said mostly to himself as he cast a simple healing spell on him with the simple flick of a wrist. Call it alcohol poisoning prevention. “I believe we’re even now. But you definitely owe me a dance, if not several.”

One of those blindingly bright smiles that somehow made Alec’s hazel eyes shine brighter than they usually did took over his face as he offered his hand to his husband. “Then what are we waiting for?”


End file.
